


Billy Batson Has A Mom

by wedelia



Category: DC Extended Universe, DCU, Shazam! (2019)
Genre: "Write the fic you want to see in the world." - Gandhi, (Or Yoda maybe), Angst, But fluff also! You know me, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 03:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wedelia/pseuds/wedelia
Summary: It's the night after The Night When Everything Happened, and Freddy asks a question that had been forgotten in the chaos of the moment: “Hey, how did things go with your mom?”





	Billy Batson Has A Mom

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a couple hours after leaving the movie theater because I needed to get it out of my system and was impatient to post it; if there are any glaring mistakes, please forgive them.

It's the night after The Night When Everything Happened, and Freddy asks a question that had been forgotten in the chaos of the moment: “Hey, how did things go with your mom?”

Billy stares up at the dark speckles in the ceiling as he lays in the top bunk of the bed he and his best-friend-brother share. Blinking against a sudden warmth in his eyes, he says, “She didn't want me.”

A short pause.

Billy doesn't really want to hear a response yet—can't stomach the thought of the inevitable _man, that sucks_ or _oh, well, I guess that's what you should have expected—_ and so, to fill up the silence before Freddy can, he adds, “I should have seen it coming, you know? I would have if I had paid more attention to how she actually was instead of how I wanted to remember her as being. She was a single teen mom and I was this needy kid holding her back.” The speckles in the ceiling are getting blurrier. “I just...really wanted to believe that someone wanted me.”

Freddy’s voice is uncharacteristically gentle when he says, “We want you.”

Want. Present tense.

Billy swallows. “Thanks, Freddy.”

“And, you know, it's her loss. She doesn't even get to know that her son is Captain Sparklefingers.”

“Shut _up.”_

 

And so what? Billy’s fine. He doesn’t need a mother. So what if the sweet truth that he had spent his life believing turned out to be a lie? It was fine. He was _fine_.

He had gone this long without her, and he would just keep going. At least now he knew the real story behind what had happened that day at the carnival. And it was for the best, after all, because she was right. He hadn’t needed her. Not really.

Not much.

Anyway, he’s doing well now. He loves his new family with a kind of tentative, hopeful love, the same kind of tentative hope that he’d spent so long channeling toward the project of finding his mom. He helps Freddy do the dishes in the afternoon and talks to Mary about her plans for Caltech and doesn’t even complain much anymore when Darla hugs him at school. Billy didn’t get a chance to be a good son, but he has suddenly been given the chance to be a good brother, so he tries his best.

Things are...nice.

And then he messes up.

 

It isn’t entirely his fault. It happens because of the two bullies who have been picking on Freddy all year. They have—surprise, surprise—failed yet  _again_ to get the message that Freddy is off-limits and decide to celebrate the Friday before Spring Break by shoving him hard against a row of lockers.

“Hey,” Billy snaps, positioning himself between Freddy and the jerks. “Cut it out.”

The curly-haired one snickers. “Why so protective? What are you, his mom?”

Billy’s fingers curl. He sees red, and then his fist is flying.

“Billy, no—!” Freddy clambers up from the ground.

“You little shit,” says the guy Billy has just punched—not as Shazam, but as scrawny _Billy Batson_ , who starts to realize that he has possibly made a huge mistake—, rubbing a hand over his reddening jaw and glaring murderously.

Billy gulps.

He sees a fist coming toward him and hears Freddy shouting, and then Billy is sent flying.

 

Billy shifts uncomfortably in a stiff plastic chair in the principal’s office. He holds a too-cold ice pack up to his throbbing eye, which will probably develop into an awful bruise. At the moment he doesn’t care about that, though, or the humiliation of being beaten up in a hallway full of gawking teenagers while secretly being an actual superhero with actual superpowers that he could’ve used to defend himself.

What’s making him increasingly anxious is the idea of how his family will react to the news that he punched someone at school. Just imagining Victor's look of disappointed resignation makes Billy want to throw up. It isn’t _fair._

He’s  _trying_. He’s doing all that he can to be a better version of himself, but he still can’t escape the reality that no matter how much he tries he will keep causing problems for himself and the people who were generous enough to give him a chance. How many more times will this happen before the Vasquezes get to the end of their patience and decide they’ve had enough?

Billy sits with the ice pack and frowns at the idea that even when he tries to do the right thing he ends up seeming like a delinquent.

There’s movement outside the door. The principal looks up, squints, and says, “I think your mom is here.”

Billy’s chest hurts. He wonders why, since it's his face that has been hit.

Rosa rushes into the room. She seems slightly winded, as if she’d sprinted on the way over. Her eyes find Billy’s, and he’s stunned at the concern in them.

“Billy,” she breathes, and then she is right in front of him, replacing the hand on the ice pack with one of hers and scanning his face for a grimace. “Are you okay? You silly, reckless boy, I was so worried—”

“You were?” He blurts before he can check himself.

Her gaze softens. “Of course. You’re my son.”

And if Billy’s throat tightens a little at that, it’s nobody’s business but his own. “Oh,” he says, thickly.

_Okay,_ he thinks. _I may have a mom after all._

Rosa smiles at him. “You didn’t think I was going to be upset at _you_ , did you, sweetheart?” She lifts the ice pack and evaluates the damage, her expression darkening. Billy shivers a little at the steel he sees there. “If anything, I’m angry at the thug who did this to you.”

“Actually, Mrs. Vasquez—," the principal interjects. “Billy was the one who threw the first punch.”

Rosa turns that steely look around and says, sharp, “Really? According to Freddy, the neanderthal who did this—” she gestures at Billy’s eye— “has been harassing them for weeks, and Billy was protecting his brother. Is bullying something you tolerate at Fawcett?”

The principal clears his throat. “Ah, no, absolutely not—”

“Good,” Rosa says, chilly. “I would hate to have to speak to the superintendent about my sons feeling unsafe in school.”

“Yes, you’re right." The principal nods, fidgeting. “It’s unacceptable. I’ll be meeting with the boys involved to sort out an appropriate punishment.”

“That sounds perfect.” Rosa glances back at Billy, and she gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take my son home.”

 

Billy waits until they’re outside the school building to say while keeping his eyes fixed ahead of him, “Thank you.”

Rosa has been fishing her car keys out of her pocket, but she glances up at him and says, kind, “You don’t have to thank me. Actually, I should be thanking you.”

Billy blinks. “What? Why?”

She smiles. “You’re a great kid, Billy. I’m so, so proud of you. For being such a good friend to Freddy, for making an effort to be part of the family—and because I know how brave you are for being willing to make our house your home.”

“That’s—um—” Billy drops his gaze to his sneakers. “Thank you.”

“I mean it,” Rosa says, sincere.

And Billy thinks he believes her.

 


End file.
